Thanks for the Memories!

It is probably rude to point.

Hi- My name is John and I am a recovering wrestling referee.

I officiated my last match on March 4, 2017.

Quitting is a little bittersweet, as I had a heck of a lot of fun as a ref, starting almost as far back as when canvas was stretched over horsehair mats. Below is a picture of me in my first year, 1987, taken by former Ventura High assistant coach Paul Garcia. Catch my rookie mistake? Yep! I had the wristbands on the wrong side! The first in a long but consistent line of officiating gaffs.

I wasn't much of a competitive wrestler, but I did enjoy the sport. I also had been on the business end of some home-cooked calls, and I thought I could do better than a lot of refs. My dad had started officiating a few years previously, and I figured it also would be fun to join him. And make a few bucks. (That turned out to be a bad financial decision!)

Over the years, I officiated matches at various levels, from kids on up to NCAA Division 1, in a lot of different venues, including California, Utah, Texas, Colorado, Kansas, Iowa, Montana, Nevada and North Dakota.  I primarily called high school matches until 1998, at which time I (foolishly) decided college wrestling would be more "fun." Exciting, challenging, thrilling and intense come to mind, but I have to admit that having a gym full of crazies boo me over a call wasn't all that fun. Or some of the nose-to-nose conversations with coaches whose job depended on their win-loss record.  But actually, I had a ton of fun.

I thought I would be like my friend Erwin Goldbloom and go for 50+ years. A few years ago, I would look at other refs who retired, stepped away, or just quit like a little baby, and thought, "Well, that is weird." If you love something, why stop? However, over the past couple seasons, I have experienced a few changes that were indicative of being at the end.

First was the amount of time required.  Tournaments seemed like they were lasting way too many hours, the overall time commitment felt burdensome, and the travel was becoming a pain in the kiester. Not to mention feeling like I wanted to spend time with my family instead of with other peoples' kids.

Arizona State vs Cal Poly

Second, I started to hear coaches getting chippy more than in the past, and I have to admit that I became cranky with them. Heck, I think I penalized coaches more this last year than in all my previous years combined. (But that North Dakota coach had it coming!)

The proverbial straw on the camel's back was when I was at the NAIA National Championships a couple months ago, I got food poisoning the night before the first day, and was up all night experiencing the worst imaginable result of eating bad food. The word "nuclear" might describe how things went down. I don't know how I made it through that day, (those watching would say I didn't!) but I remember thinking, "Maybe the Good Lord is trying to tell me something."

So I told my wife that I thought I was done.  Then I cautiously told a friend or two.  Then I told my wife I was done, definitely.

I have too many memories to list them all here, but some do stick out . . .

Again, it is rude to point.

Most nervous event: Iowa vs Fresno state, 1999.  My first big dual where there were a dozen All Americans and 5 national champs on the mat. A Youtube video shows me actually tiptoeing around the mat! Last match of the night was NCAA #1 vs #2, which would be re-wrestled at the NCAAs later that year. Lucky for me the score was 14-1!

Most fun dual: Defending D2 champ University of Central Oklahoma beat defending D3 champ Wartburg 17-16. Each won 5 matches, but UCO had 2 major decisions and Wartburg just 1, and it was one heck of a heated dual meet.

Now THAT'S a crossface!

Crappiest experience: BYU kid looked like he had both the Penn's kids in a freestyle leg lace when he hit a roll, but as he was hitting the move, I saw he only had one leg. The Penn kid desperately tried to roll with him to minimize the twisting, but I was late getting the situation stopped, so his knee got tweaked pretty badly.  After finally getting the situation stopped, the kid from Penn, with pain, just looked at me, holding his hands up in wonder.  His coach came on the mat and said, "That is the #3 kid in the nation that you just let get hurt." He ended up as the national champ the following year, but that one bothered me for a while.

Best wrestler: Stephen Abas.  That guy was a wizard on his feet.  He would warm up doing these acrobatic Capoeira moves that looked like it would put him in the hospital if he did it wrong, then go out and toy with his opponents like a cat plays with its food.

One of the CA High School State Tournaments I called

Making stuff up:  I hate it when it seems like refs get creative in their interpretations, but I have been guilty of just that a few times . . . Cornell kid had a leg ride in and was putting the boots pretty good to the other guy, I forget where from. Bottom kid took exception, tried to headbutt him backwards, and was throwing weak punches backwards from his compromised position. Cornell kid responded with a couple big MMA type elbows on the back of the other kid's head. Textbook-no-brainer call is flagrant misconduct- DQ. But I was kind of curious to see how it played out, plus I didn't want the paperwork, so I called it a "wash" and just penalized them each a point. They finished out just fine.

Toughest coach: Now there could be a pretty good list here. Those Boise State coaches seemed to try to get under my skin every stinking time, and I rang them up for penalty points every stinking time. But none tops Paul Keysaw of Fresno City. I cut my teeth on Keysaw's matches, and always felt like a rookie on his mat, even 20 years later, so I went out of my way to act like I wasn't intimidated. Keysaw has the best one line insults in the game, and most times you were just glad they were directed at other refs!

Funnest environment: Stanford at Cal Baptist, on an outside platform with over 2600 in attendance to set the outdoor record. Which Iowa beat by having one in their football stadium before a football game. The wrestlers, coaches and fans at Cal Baptist are the absolute nicest anywhere.

I should probably seek help for this pointing habit.

Biggest missed call:  At JC state, two defending state champs from different weights the previous year met in the finals.  One took the other down straight to his back, and according to half-the-gym, I didn't get in position in time to see the pin, even though I hustled. It happens. The kid got off his back with a 0-6 score and came back and won. The losing kid's dad followed me into the locker room to "talk things over." Lucky for me, the East LA coaches were coming out as I was going in, and I got them to bodyguard me while I dressed, and escort me to my car. Thanks Ralph and Monico!

Most interesting wrestler: Anthony Robles.  Born with one leg, he had a roll through tilt that he could hit from anywhere. It was funny how early on, he was someone that people looked at as an inspiration.  By the end of his career, opponents not only failed to see his disability, but were complaining that he had the advantage of the body of a 157 pounder while competing at 125.  The kid was impressive.

Most intimidating wrestler: Cain Velasquez of Arizona State, former UFC heavyweight champ. He seems like a nice guy and family man during interviews today, but I hit him for stalling once, just once. That is the only time I thought an athlete might come after me and do some damage, and he looked like he had enough crazy in him to do it.  I might have let him stall after that.

Last event: NAIA National Championships, with my good buddy Art Lomelli.

What I will miss the most: My fellow officials, many of whom I feel are like my brothers, like Erwin, Sergio Cortez, Chuck Harrison, Les Rasmussen, Tony Trabucco, Cory Salmon, Doug Perrin, Tony Ovalle . . . can't even begin to name them all.  My good buddy Joe Rios is always in my thoughts.  A great ref and a wonderful friend, he was a family man through-and-through who was taken way too soon. In a world of male toughness, he frequently said, "I love you, John" on the phone. I miss the heck out of that guy.

One of the coaches, Vince Silva at Santa Ana College, asked me what I am going to do with all my free time now.

Hmmm, I will have to think of something . . .